


I Wake Up Lonely

by PacketofRedApples



Category: My Own Worst Enemy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Slow Burn, Spies & Secret Agents, Tony's alive; Nora has nothing to do with Edward; Angie's had enough
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-14 19:03:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10542621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PacketofRedApples/pseuds/PacketofRedApples
Summary: In an attempt to fix the error with the microchip, they separate Henry from Edward.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Re-publishing this because I don't wanna lose all I wrote in case my hard drive breaks again.

With slight amusement he flips through the pages of Henry Spivey’s case file. Of course Janus thought they were being funny when they named him.

  
However, he isn’t sure why he feels curious about his secondary persona.   


With more than a small moment he glances over to a body pooling blood on the cheap motel rug. He’ll have to clean that up… But not right now.

  
He stretches on the old filthy bed, takes a cigarette and lights it. He enjoys the moment; looking through the photos of the Spivey family… Awfully dull. All of them. Yet, he’s perplexed with himself. A single microchip changes between him and a man he’ll never know. Someone living the so called “American Dream”; a wife, two kids, a dog and a house in the suburbs. They love him and all the other bull crap that makes him want to laugh. How? They’re the same but different. Completely, radically, beyond belief different. 

  
A puff of smoke.   


Henry seems like a weakling, a coward and a complete drone…they control him so easily that he never notices the constant cuts from shaving, scratches on the back, cigarette burns and countless other injuries Edward collects while being awake.   


But he wants him to. He wants him to start questioning things. They’re the same, so why can’t Henry be aware?  


So he wonders just what he is like… that’s a dumb thought. He only wants to meet the guy because they’re the same. Assess what damage was being done to him, see what nerves of his would be played with given the chance…or would he just fret? Poor ol’ Henry probably would… Quite a shame to think they’re the same, but the other is so pathetic in comparison to the spy.

  
Fuck it, Edward knows it’s just a sense of superiority, closing in to a god complex, merely because he wants to remember that he’s the original. That it doesn’t matter, despite what will happen, he is in control…. Or at least that’s what he likes to believe.

 

Maybe he’s slipping away from the truth. It can’t be helped.

 

Edward stretches and smirks.

 

Not like he’s ever going to really meet the little punk.

 

Yet things find a way to change, don’t they?

 

When the microchip breaks it takes years for things to really move forward. As it turns out it isn’t easy to fix something you cannot obtain, something your hands cannot touch.

* * *

 

Upon entering the house, a hostile air takes up the space. It hasn’t been good for a while; everything has been falling apart thanks to Edward and the constant missions. Well, Henry used to say because of constant traveling for work and because of work in general but it is apparent now that it’s all Edward. A father that’s never there isn’t much of a father and same goes for a husband. Sure, they had some fantastic sex— or more like; Angie and Edward did— but that only slowed down the inventible disastrous ending of this. Henry might have been kept in the shadows, but he wasn’t stupid.

 

With a sigh, the office worker takes off his jacket and makes his way to the kitchen, where he faces his wife. It stalls him in spot, where breathing becomes more difficult. Scared or worried she eyes him and returns to making lunch, trying to get it over with before the kids return.  Somewhere in the motions she stops, but Henry can’t say when since he was too distracted rummaging through the fridge.

 

“I want a divorce.”  Angie’s voice is cold. He looks at her, pleading.

 

“I didn’t do anything--” Henry argues like a child, as if it would verify anything to his benefit.  She turns to him then, freezing him in spot again.

 

“That’s exactly the problem, Henry. What’s the point of being married to you? We might as well be divorced. You’re never here and when you are you’re distant, even when spending time with us you’re bored. Henry- it’d be for the better if we’d just separated." 

 

He wishes he could argue, but she’s right. He knew all that all along.

* * *

 

Tony and his buddy, some lab rat Edward’s never seen before, take various samples of his DNA. He questions it, but only gets vague responses— something to do with fixing the chip, they say, and that’s really enough for him. Later it all follows by testing; recording brain activity and so on. 

  
Henry is aware of it all, but both of them get the same reply as to how it’s going— “progress is being made,” as if that fucking says anything. They might be moving in circles, he’s sure of that.

  
And it’s a long while, around several weeks till Tony returns.

 

The spy finds himself holding papers, something to do with Henry, he’s sure. He stuffs them into his inner jacket pocket when the other man approaches him, radiating slightly.

  
“I hope you don’t think scars are cool.”

  
“What?” the spy turns, glaring at the tech.

  
“Oh, Edward.” his smile falls, lips pressing into a thin line.

  
“You sound disappointed by this realization.” Edward says with a frown. Annoyed and the ‘why is that?’ hangs in the air. The tech looks at him, a tad unsettled.  Tony awkwardly motions to Mavis’ office. Edward still glares him down.

 

“We… need to talk to you. It has to do with the chip and Henry.” Tony eventually manages, avoiding eye contact.

 

It’s only a couple minutes, if not seconds, till they find themselves in the office, avoidant of everybody else.

 

“I haven’t found a way to fix the chip from the outside and we can’t remove the chip or something like that because that will cause bleeding or at the very least severe brain damage. However, I think I could be capable of extracting Henry. Which will prevent it from switching you two back and forth…” Tony explains, looking around for anyone’s support in the room, but receives only questioning stares.

 

Loosely, let’s say, 20 years down the drain. All the effort put into an experiment of separating personalities and making sure you had spies who did nothing but were spies and were dead to the world existed. Had a façade where nobody, not even themselves, knew what they did in the dark. The motions unseen by others was what gave this importance, but what good is it when the best example of the experiment breaks and your idea of fixing it, is destroying it. The entire idea could pop a vain for Albright, making him slightly more enraged with the situation than he was before.

 

“Oh, great. So the intention here is to turn this into a colossal waste of time. You think Trumbull wouldn’t find out about this? ” Edward says, pushing his hands into his pants pockets, cocking his head and glaring down the other man, the thought of just _what_ exactly they intend to do with Henry not occurring to him.

 

“Your work won’t be interrupted, Edward. Currently that’s the priority as your success rate has been going down.” Mavis offers, steadily. More out of respect, Edward stays quiet, even as this feels more and more as an irrational irritation.

 

“Any side-effects?” He asks after a minute of silence. This might be interesting in getting him back into work…then again, it raised more questions. People would notice Henry disappearing. Not just AJsun, but the outside word. His family, friends… damn how he hated that thought. The bastard had more to cling onto than him.

 

“It will cause migraines when the chip will flip, but we might minimize that eventually.” Tony perks up again.

 

“And what will happen to Henry after you extract him? I have no intention of doubling in management.” Albright makes his way to one of the couches, slumping against it and screwing his eyes tight.

 

“Well….we worked on a body to transplant him into….We cloned you, I guess you could say.” Tony finally says, the piece of information having been eating away at him for all day. It knocks Edward back up, looking at the man with disdain.

 

“Did you know this?” The spy directs at Mavis, somewhat in disbelief.

 

“I allowed it, once Tony suggested it. You both can stay in your roles without interruptions between them.” Mavis. Dear self-assured Mavis who always knew best. This was driving Edward up the wall right about now.

  
“Alright…anything else I should know about?”  It’s a bitter tone, annoyed and trying just his best not to spit a biting remark at both their ways. It only gets him a calm reply from Mavis.

 

“No.”

 

Thankfully. Edward’s not sure how well he would have handled anything else coming from the two, just considering how agitated he was right about now.

 

Soon enough they take him down to the labs. Even if he’s hesitant, he doesn’t let it show, trying his best to stay in composure. But it’s difficult… Edward’s not sure if he should say that even by his standards this was creepy, because his personal creep-o-meter was too tolerant at times. So maybe this really was bat-shit insane. But seeing the body in the casing was making him ever so slightly queasy.

 

Oh fucking Christ, was he Spivey all of a sudden?

 

Either way, it stays with him when they lay him down.

 

Strap him just to make sure he won’t fuss.

 

Then he closes his eyes and it’s still there— but he feels it even as things go black.

 

When they shake him awake, he feels the mother of all migraines and it really comes as no surprise; but he regains awareness soon enough. Besides the ache he’s sure he’s alright, if the backing away and inspecting the other body with more interest was anything to go by. He grimaces, but stands up on his feet with no issue and blinks away the dizziness.

 

Tony and some techs help the AI out, steading him. Albright’s somewhat glad the other isn’t naked… When Henry is put on his feet he waivers, having an obviously hard time finding his center of gravity.

 

“It’ll take him time to regain full control of his body… the nerves should reacquaint with him after a month or so.” Tony explains quickly to Edward who only watches with interest, but not much care.

 

“I- I’m fully aware, you know.” Henry retorts when he grips onto something.  A smirk breaks onto Edward’s features, but he brushes it off just as quickly as it appears. The actual fact that there was another body just like him—another him, even if it was Henry, was in front of him and alive. 

 

“It’d be better if he was kept under some watch just to see if it’s fully functional.” One tech says, and it clues Edward in just enough to roll his eyes and make for the exit.

 

“Great, you take care of that then.”

 

“Actually, Edward. That would be you.”

 

“I’ve got no time to play babysitter.”

 

“You have no mission…besides; it’s a fix to your problem.”

 

Henry shakes some sickness from himself, trying to feel real, but he’s just so overwhelmed.

 

“Don’t I get a say in this?”

 

“Preferably not.” He turns to the others. “Won’t somebody miss him anyhow?” Edward keeps talking about him like a dog.

 

“Not quite and I think you know why, Edward.” Mavis finally speaks up again. This entire process was a cluster.

 

Edward lazily looks at the papers he had found before. They were to be returned to their actual owner, but while he bothered to get dressed. Divorce papers. Somehow he wasn’t surprised, “great sex” could only postpone it so long.

 

It will still get Henry upset, making him whinier than usual and blaming the spy as if he did something. Edward would argue that losing any attachments was beneficial as they have gotten troublesome and all through annoying.

 

And the house didn’t matter much either. The alimony on the other hand was irritating, he supposes. Not that it affected him. Despite all, Edward deemed this the better call.   
Even if it nags him, making him feel guilty.

 

But all of that is future tense. Those things are yet to come.

“Fine. I’ll let him stay at my place but don’t expect me to be his mother all of a sudden.”  Seemingly the spy finally takes to the idea.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Tony replies, quietly, expecting Edward not to hear, yet he does. Doesn’t want to argue with the tech, however.


	2. Chapter 2

They were the same… but different. A pathetic statement as it may be, seemingly illogical, but it was possibly the only way to explain it. Cutting to the core of them, they were good, moral, yet on the outside you’d assume they differ. Even if they got on like cats and dogs, by the end of the day it was all for the same goal.

 

Yet Edward cannot help but feel irritation as they drive down to his apartment.

It was bad enough he had to be schooled by Tony on what to do “just in case” but he also had to deal with Henry when he realized this was real and not some fucked up dream. Even if admittedly, it was funny to see the pen-pusher freak out. Except he clung to Edward harshly and wide eyed stared at him for a good minute before whispering “this… can’t be real” repeatedly. Which wasn’t as amusing… Surprisingly, his hold was very weak and he continued looking like he would collapse any second—but that’s a train of thought Edward didn’t want. Thankfully, they get there without any conversation starting, especially seeing as he didn’t want to talk.

“You’re gonna sleep on the couch.” Is the first thing Albright says when they both enter the modern apartment.

 

“Of course I am.” Henry seems not even a little bit surprised. The world still feels odd to him and he staggers slightly as he walks around the apartment, taking it all in as if it was new.

Clumsily he shuffles over to the couch and takes off his shoes then lies down.

 

Fine. Guess today has been eventful, Edward assumes and sighs, walking over to his kitchenette. There he takes out a glass and a bottle of whiskey. He pours the drink generously  and strolls over to the living room area, sitting down and looking over the double with slight disdain.

 

“Didn’t think you’d just roll over and take it…” Edward finally concludes as he gulps some of the alcohol. Today had been awful for him too, after all.

 

“Keep talking and I’m going to build a fort in your bed and kick you out.” Spivey seems genuinely annoyed as he says this, fidgeting on the couch.

 

“Good luck with that.” Edward smirks, before placing down the glass and going over to the closet with an eye roll. There he gets a sheet and a pillow which he ungracefully throws at the other upon returning. Henry looks at him with disbelief.

 

Edward just picks up the whiskey, gulping some down again and starting to walk towards the bed in the apartment.

 

He had some drinking to do. 

 

* * *

 

Henry keeps turning on the couch, almost falling down in the writhing. Terror is clear on his face, whimpers silent, but there. Nightmares, was it?

 

Edward sighs, not being able to tolerate this much longer. Even if he could usually sleep through anything, this time he was experiencing an immense headache. Fuck. It must have been one of those migraines Tony warned him about. Certainly a hangover never came that quick.

 

Edward gets out of his bed, striding over to the other body, and without much thought, protectively holds onto it when he kneels down. All in an attempt to calm Henry down.

 

“It’s fine. You’re fine.” He begins saying, not knowing what else to do. Perhaps shaking him awake would have helped? But it’s far too late for that when the other personality finally sleeps.

 

Edward spends the rest of the night sitting at the couch and watching over the double. The next morning Edward leaves early and comes back to find a confused Henry. He forces the cheap phone’s box into Henry’s hands and walks away, leaving him on the couch in awe. Hard to believe that while he was sleeping, the original cared about him.

 

Not that it was much of a question. If he had to play babysitter he might as well make sure he can reach him. Because the current phone? Yeah he’s definitely keeping that. Edward didn’t want to go through the entire process of setting up a new phone. That was much too… irritating.

 

* * *

 

Tony smirks at the slight concern Edward seems to show for Henry.

 

“He sleeps poorly and keeps crying through the night. It’s irritating. I don’t really care, but it’s annoying and I want it to stop.”

 

“You shouldn’t be surprised. We didn’t toggle with his memory and he never did get to deal with his PTSD before. His reaction is standard.”

 

“Well, then what the hell am I supposed to do about it?” His frustration might become more and more obvious, but Albright can’t muster up a care. He just wants to get this over with. Tony chuckles.  


“I don’t know, try some TLC?”   


The spy glares and it knocks the smile right off the face of the tech.

 

* * *

 

 

When Edward steps into the apartment there’s a feeling that’s something is awry and he doesn’t like that. Not in his home.

 

“I didn’t know when you’ll come back. I tried to make dinner, it’s in the oven but it’s probably cold by now.” Henry perks up from the living room.

 

Oh. That’s why. No wonder, now they’re playing house. Albright grimaces and goes to the kitchen, getting the food which truth be told didn’t look appetizing.

 

But how long has it been since somebody cared to make him dinner—no… that’s another stupid train of thoughts. Rather not go down that road. That was a mess nobody wanted.

 

With a sigh, Edward begins to speak.

 

“Let’s agree on one thing. You’re not a housewife and you’re not going to make me dinner. Also, you can’t touch anything here without my consent. Am I making myself clear?”

 

Henry seems unamused by this.

 

“All right, fine.” Guess this is what he gets for trying to be kind to the other. He pouts and returns to the television show he was watching.

 

This could almost make the spy feel guilty but instead he just wants to remark how pathetic the other seems. Soon enough he joins his double at the couch, food left on the counter. Might as well inquire just what damage has been done to his reputation or home… even if it makes him sound too much like a concerned significant other.

 

“What did you do all day anyways?”

 

“What does it matter to you anyway?” Oh no, the lady of the house is pissed.

 

“Seriously?” Edward shoots Henry a look that says more than needed.

 

“Fine, I uh… Well, I really just watched TV. Read some of the books you have here… Hope you don’t mind.”

 

Nothing eventful. Good.

 

Albright nods knowingly and turns to the screen. Some movie is on about teenagers but from the few seconds it’s about all he can make out. Something about murder too? Well, wasn’t this just a blast?

 

Whatever. There was a game that should be on soon.

 

So with that in mind, he grabs the remote and changes the channel.

 

“Hey—I was watching that.”

 

“Big deal.”

 

Of course it would play out like this.

 

* * *

 

 

“Big problems start from small ones” Spivey muses, seemingly not really realizing he said it out loud.  


“Thanks Gandhi.” Albright retorts.

 

Is this what every morning is going to be like now? No, no. Don’t think like that Albright. Soon enough you will get rid of the little rascal and you’ll go your separate ways and no longer will you have to worry about what damage to the country’s wellbeing has been caused or if his position as a spy is blown or if Henry has fucked anything else up.

 

You just have to endure it a little while longer.

* * *

 

 

It’s one o'clock on Sunday afternoon and Henry is just trying to get a coffee. One o'clock on a Sunday and that’s really the only thing he was trying to do. Take a stupid walk through the god damn park, get a coffee and walk home, pretend he hadn’t went out and no I hadn’t done anything to endanger this solution that so far only over complicated things even more than they already were. One o'clock on a Sunday afternoon and he gets knocked out walking from the park.

  
It’s dark even when he comes to his senses… Take it or leave it but he assumes he’s in a trunk of a car. Tied up for sure. Pain not only swelling from his head but also just about all over his body if particularly his torso.

 

Just what kind of mess has he gotten himself into now?


	3. Chapter 3

 

Edward returned home to find that Henry is gone.

 

“Think I told him not to go out anywhere” rings in the air, full of annoyance.

 

So of course he calls him… not that it’s to any avail.

 

It had been a rough day at Janus. Being told he isn’t sent out on any mission only irked him. It was the success rate, wasn’t it? But either way, this was a mess. Being told to resume waiting and just having to deal with interrogation… well at least he could take out his frustration.

 

However, that still left him returning to the question at hand—where the fuck was Spivey?

 

He tries to call him again.

 

And again.

 

And again…

 

Very repetitive.

 

Yet, all of those attempts to contact the pen-pusher failed. He just didn’t seem to pick up.

 

He’d just shrug it off or maybe give it more time, but… this was alarming. Henry was usually so dutiful. He’d never just outright vanish, would he? No. He wouldn’t even have the guts to do that. Man’s got no moxie.

 

So, instead, Edward calls Mavis.

* * *

 

 

The double is now tied to a chair, awake yet queasy. This wasn’t good. Time went by but he never had gotten good at dealing with these sorts of situations. 

 

“Well, Edward. Seems we have run into each other again.” An unfamiliar voice says and Spivey can only muster up to sigh.

 

Oh, what was the point of arguing?

 

Spivey then gulps as the other forward towards him. What could this man possibly want to do  to him?

 

Well, for one he lands a punch on the double, then another and so on, until he finally halts and smirks looking over Spivey’s face.  Meanwhile, Henry just yelps in pain. Bleeding and red, bruises will form on his face.

 

“Consider this us getting even.”

 

“Re- really?”

 

The man laughs.

 

“No. This is just the start,” The unfamiliar one takes off his jacket then. “But there is some information I do need from you, Albright.”

 

* * *

 

“Can’t believe you lost the little fairy, Albright.” Raymond practically laugh-snorts as he hears the news. Seems he was taking the news of Edward’s clone rather well.  Well, the bastard never really cared.

 

“Consider yourself lucky I never decided to reimburse you for those bruises you left on me.” Albright glares at Raymond.

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” A challenge.

 

“Means shut the hell up unless you got something important to say.”

 

At that Mavis clears her throat, shooting them both a dirty look. Tony then bites his lip momentarily, clearly concerned about what’s going on between the two. Nevertheless, he turns back to the computer and presses a couple keys. A map appears on the screen.

 

“Tracking the GPS that was in the phone… Henry should be in Westmont. Uh, here’s the address.” Tony’s concern grows as he learns this.

 

Raymond smirks, knowingly and Edward just shakes his head.

 

* * *

 

They stand outside of the building in the parked van, until Raymond and Edward both stop fiddling around with their weapons and glance at each other, nodding. However, before Edward can get out of the vehicle, Carter stops him.

 

“Don’t get too emotionally invested.”

 

Edward is taken aback by this comment; surprised that Raymond would ever consider saying it. Honestly, the man should have known him better by now. So what the hell is that supposed to mean?

 

“I’m just doing my job.” And with that he exits.

 

The plan is simple. Albright scouts out the area and if back up is needed, he calls Raymond.

There wasn’t much more they could manage, seeing as the separation was still hush hush. And probably will remain so.

  
Edward walks carefully around the building, breaking the lock of the backdoor then entering with quiet steps. He’s cautious in his movements, swiftly looking around the halls before stopping in front of a door ahead of him. Listening for any sounds, he hears a grunt. Whoever that is needs to be taken out, clearly.

 

When he busts, through, he sees a beaten Henry tied to a chair and a man putting out the cigarette on his arm.  The other man is a familiar face to Edward. One of the men he has had to take care of once. It was honestly quite simple back then, in the days when Henry wasn’t a nuisance.

 

But that’s beside the point now, because when Edward takes in the sight of Henry, ignoring the confused torturer… Well, to say he sees red is an understatement. Yet perhaps he wouldn’t admit to it, but he didn’t like the sight particularly.

 

Finally the other man begins to take out his gun, but even before he has time to aim it and prepare to fire, Edward raises his submachine gun and shoots him straight in the head.

 

Should have done that sooner, had he known.

 

But the look on Henry’s face then, as the blood splattered at him…. priceless.

* * *

 

It turns out you can’t fuck the gay away. Shouldn’t have come as a surprise but oddly Edward had hoped to some extent it would… Not to say he didn’t find the girls he went out with, somewhat deceptively, in the past few months attractive. He liked all of them. Really. And had any of them thought of him as more than just a lay, he probably would have went out with some of them and not solely for another make out session or a handjob. 

But it all kind of went to hell when heading home after practice he ran into the freshmen fairy. He had heard rumors about him, none having grabbed his interest. He supposed the kid was alright but in the long run he just really didn’t care. 

They kind of chatted, yet it mostly consisted of Edward trying to get the pointless conversation over with so he could just go home.

Eventually, the freshman shuts up and Albright is tempted to just ditch the kid there–  
Not that he gets to. The kid forces a piece of paper into his hand, pecks him and runs off.  
And since then he hasn’t really stopped thinking about it.

The note was asking to meet him that Friday…Edward didn’t show up, obviously. The kid didn’t address it, avoidant overall and it was understandable. Kinda felt bad for him, kinda wanted to sweep him off his feet but also sort of wanted to hurt him.

So alright, great. Now he can’t really stop thinking about some of the other guys. Primarily this one who hanged with the artsy kids or whatever. He didn’t know his name, could’ve been Mark or some crap. They both had English together and he got better grades than him. 

Not to paint the picture that he was bad at English, because he wasn’t, just the kid seemed to be somewhat better versed. Understanding that Edward had to juggle school, football and a social life came in handy. Yet, he still denied the possibility to be anything but… straight. Being queer completely didn’t come into account of being a good son and perhaps he should admit that that is where all his efforts went.

Soon the car crash happens and he doesn’t think about it all anymore…

Up until Henry leaves his first message.

But that was a long time ago now… why was he remembering this?

* * *

 

 

They’re finally back at the apartment. Since there was an issue with how to take care of Henry’s injuries without alerting anyone they ended up mutually agreeing on Edward having to do it. Well, mutually as in, Mavis ordered it and Edward reluctantly agreed to it.

 

Henry steps out of the shower and Edward already has the first aid kit prepared. It takes the AI by surprise. But he sits down gingerly next to his counterpart and lets him look at his wounds.

 

His face was majorly fucked up… made Edward want to make a Fight Club joke but he decided against it. It was considerably in poor taste, besides he didn’t like what it would possibly imply about himself.

 

The burns on his arms weren’t severe. Sure they hurt like a bitch, but they weren’t going to kill him. Seems the torture was mostly at its beginning. They really got there in time, who knows what that bastard would have done--- here, Edwards starting to lose himself again. His train of thoughts needs to slow down. Getting too emotional.

 

With some peroxide and a cotton swab, he starts cleaning the wounds, an annoyed sigh escaping him for good measure.

 

* * *

 

Henry shifts on the couch, frantically. Screw it; maybe it’s the couch that’s uncomfortable. He doesn’t want to do anything like hold him or some shit. Spivey’s a grown man, shouldn’t have to resort to this. Albright swirls his whiskey, leans against the couch.

 

“Do you really speak thirteen languages?” comes a drowsy voice.  


“Huh?”

 

The other personality turns to face him, throwing the sheets off himself.  


“Can’t sleep, trying to make conversation.” He sniffles. “So… thirteen languages?”  


“Yeah…” Edward says nonchalantly, drinks.  German, Russian, Spanish, so on, so on. Never gave it much thought. Learning them has become more or less a blur. It’s one of those things now, comes to him on a whim. Maybe he’s lucky. He does remember spending several hours for weeks slaving in front of manuals and listening to pronunciation. Tongue twisters, every single one of them at first now flow as easily as killing a man. Then again, murder might not be the easiest of flows for everybody. Primarily, Spivey. Squeamish bastard.

 

“Aha.” He says. It’s quiet then, supposes the AJ employee couldn’t think of anything more to ask. It feels awkward and Albright pities him. Finishes his glass. Maybe that’s what overtakes him at the moment, watching Spivey try desperately to fall asleep. Insomnia’s part of PTSD, isn’t it?  


“Vous êtes extrêmement frustrant, mais je dois admettre que je tiens beaucoup à vous... ... à un certain degré.” Spivey jumps at the sentence. A moment of weakness. Not many pass the spy so he feels instantly regretful and uncomfortable by it. He gets up and carries the glass to the kitchen.

  
“Wh- what did you just say?” confusion, a desperate plea for a translation.

 

“Nothing. Sleep tight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in French: You are extremely frustrating, but I have to admit that I care a lot about you... to some level.


	4. Chapter 4

It’s another night with Edward lying awake because Henry keeps god damn fidgeting in his sleep and breathing heavily and holy shit there’s got to be a way to stop this. Sure, soothing him helps, but he’s so tired of doing that, so tired of having to spend the entire night next to the other man just to make sure _he_ gets a proper night’s sleep rather than the spy himself.

 

So it’s not like he really knows why he decides the best way to act is to get out of bed, walk over to Spivey and pick him up, carrying him back to his bed.

 

The bastard even sleeps through all of this. Edward carefully lays the other down, and positions himself on the other side of him, hand on the double’s chest. This seems to usually calm him.

 

And it works this time.

 

Edward huffs, then glances over the healing wounds on Spivey’s face. Why did this have to make him so angry?

 

The double was good for nothing, he deserved it.

* * *

 

Henry wakes up, unsure about his location. This wasn’t good… just how did he get here?  What bewildered him more was the fact that Edward was just inches away from him, with his hand on him protectively.

 

Just what the hell happened last night? Did he sleep walked? He better get out of here.

 

Besides, Albright was usually an early riser. This wasn’t going to end well soon.

* * *

 

It’s pathetic how he shuffles his feet under the desk, trying his patience waiting for Angie.

There are things to be resolved. He still hasn’t signed the divorce papers, deciding that putting up at least some argument was needed.

 

It wasn’t his greed really. He didn’t need much of what they had and he certainly wanted the kids to be okay and that just wouldn’t happen with a father figure who wasn’t there. Not to mention that Janus would endanger them.

 

But his petty pride wouldn’t allow to just give in.

 

Angie stops as she sees him, taking the sight of the broken man.

 

“Henry, what happened to you!?”

 

Henry forces a smirk. He’ll need a drink after this, won’t he?

 

“I’m fine, don’t worry.” He explains, not bothering to stand up.

* * *

 

“He’s fun when he’s drunk.” Tony says, leaning against the bar, watching Spivey walk into the

bathroom with rare air of smugness about him. Meanwhile, Edward tries to remember again just why he agreed to this.

 

Sure getting drunk always was fun, but it wasn’t quite as fun when you had to babysit a lightweight.

 

So he sighs and walks after Henry. Because if anything, there was a feeling in his gut telling him something was going awry.

* * *

 

Henry’s very drunk; somewhere in the process of getting so he loosened his shirt and that was getting scowls from Edward. After all, it was him. Well, it was Henry, but it was him. And he couldn’t be seen a mess; with irritation he moves in and starts buttoning the shirt up. Henry chuckles.  


“What?”  


“You’re really close to me.” the AI says like it’s the most intriguing thing.  


“We used to share a body. Fairly sure we were closer then.” Albright states, sparks of annoyance flying off him.   


“Yeah…but now I can do this.” Henry manages then leans in landing a sloppy kiss on the spy.

 

Edward should have probably jumped back, instead of standing there wide eyed.

 

He doesn’t even feel the stupid smile spread on his face. Just what the hell? What was this? His heart felt weird.

 

Something over takes him and he kisses Henry again and the AI follows in his movements, letting him deepen the kiss and hands pull him closer. Momentarily, he stops, realizing just what the hell he’s doing.

 

He finally pulls away, grunting. Spivey seems confused by this over all-- his look is defensive and he seems ready to flee.

 

“Nobody can know about this, you realize? Nobody. Not Tony, not Mavis and most definitely not Raymond.”

 

Silence passes and a man exits the stool, leaving the room without washing his hands.

 

The opinion of such scum doesn’t matter to the spy, however.

 

Eventually, it seems Henry puts together what Albright just said and sadly nods his head. The original personality sighs in frustration at this and leans forward, planting a small peck on Henry’s lips. 

 

God, he was really doing this, wasn’t he?

* * *

 

When they finally get home, its way past midnight. Henry is over all happy, humming something and he was that way since the bathroom incident which made it really hard to tell Tony nothing had happened. Like he was really going to believe that.

 

Spivey staggers about the room, before collapsing on the couch.

 

“Hey, how did I end up in your bed this morning?” he asks out of nowhere. And Edward only now realizes that Henry had vanished then too. Bastard can’t stay put, can he?

 

“You had a nightmare…” Edward explains. Glances  at the AI at that moment and rolls his eyes. “Do you want to sleep in my bed tonight?”

 

“Oh, is Mr. Stoic really inviting me?” That was enough. Edward didn’t like drunk Henry, that much was decided.

 

“No. Sleep on the god damn couch.”

* * *

 

A month passes without incident. And it’s almost ridiculous how they’ve come to this.

 

Edward stares down at his phone, ruffled slightly. The conversation had come to an end. It wasn’t much of a thing, just reporting what was happening and that he’s fine.

 

“I…uh, take care.” Edward forces it out of himself, clearly uncomfortable and dissatisfied at having to say that, let alone that he means it. Showing emotions never found a way to be a good thing. Spivey looks slightly disappointed at that. The spy intends to shut off the stream then, but the other personality perks up.   


“I’m not sending you back any time soon.” There’s a foolish grin upon his features, showing his teeth and it’s oddly adorable. Yet, Albright would rather not think about that. So instead, Edward snarls at that.

 

“Do you even know what an odd thing that is to say?” And it really was, nobody would argue to differ. Made people sound like items too much, didn’t it?  


“Huh?” Now there’s legitimate confusion Spivey expresses at that.   


“I’m not sending you back any time soon. It’s weird. Nobody says that.”  


“I do.” And the toothy smile is back upon his face.   


“Yeah…” Albright fights a smile from his face. “I guess you do.”   


Spivey laughs. Edward can’t take it anymore so he forces a groan and hangs up.

 

Is this really what his life is going to be like right now?


End file.
